I’m loud, obnoxious, gregarious, forceful, and very sensitive. I was given the beautiful and simple advice from someone I admire a great deal to just “listen” early this morning. I don’t know fully what that means, to him or to anyone, but I’m not going to ask. I’m going to discover it on my own.
I’ll admit, it’s hard. Even now I feel I may be betraying the purpose of letting things happen and not processing them aloud or on paper, or sharing them with the world. But my only real art is words. And my only thing to contribute to society is to try to sometimes make sense of the feelings I experience and hope that sharing them makes someone else feel seen.
But back to listening — it will take me a while to master, but for now the closest thing I can understand is meditation. I was never great at it anyway; my thoughts are too intrusive, my brain too busy, the world too loud, but I’ve always enjoyed the experience. So that’s what I tried. And this is what I heard:
As I stood in the shower, a place I usually think and feel and cry, I closed my eyes and focused on what I could sense and see and touch instead. The water is always my safe place, but today I had the added benefit of a window and the sun in the perfect spot to fill my eyelids and create ever changing sunsets for my vision. The heat of the water, the heat of the sunlight, and the fire in my eyes gave me a sense of peace. I felt worthy, of life, and of love in whatever forms it may take.
I opened my eyes and watched the blizzard of tiny water droplets swirl and dance above my head, waiting for nothing more than the rainbow. I was patient. And it never came. And I let that be okay. The simple beauty of the steam and the sunlight was enough.
When I got out and wrapped the towel around myself, I turned to see once more what I had just experienced, and was given an even bigger surprise: among the steaming mist, strands of a spider’s web drifted down and mingled, creating silver threads among the magic that was already present. I reached my hands up to catch some, and let the universe finish talking. It’s not important to share everything I discovered: that’s my journey and I don’t need to tell anyone.
But among the quiet, finally, I heard: keep writing. And then I put on my seahorse earrings and faced the day, a little less broken, a little more calm, and very thankful.
